


those chandeliers of hope

by hippocampers



Category: History Boys - All Media Types
Genre: Festivities, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 08:04:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13142463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippocampers/pseuds/hippocampers
Summary: This year, despite the temptation of a red-wine nap, David is determined to stay awake until Don gets in, eager to warm the other up with mistletoe kisses.-A very Scosner Christmas.





	those chandeliers of hope

**Author's Note:**

> title from coldplay's "christmas lights"!

It’s not really his holiday, but David must admit he’s got a fondness for the Muppets. It seems Martha does too, from the way she’s purring on his lap. He scratches behind her ears as Kermit announces it’s just one more sleep ‘til Christmas, eliciting a satisfied _hrrmph_ from the ginger cat. It’s quite the pleasant way to spend a night, David thinks to himself, as the furry beast adjusts herself on his lap and the lull of wine settles over him again. This year, despite the temptation of a red-wine nap, David is determined to stay awake until Don gets in, eager to warm the other up with mistletoe kisses.

Despite his best efforts, however, David must doze off. He ends up stirring only when a key scrapes in the front door. Clumsily adjusting his glasses, David smiles sleepily at the man who’s shutting the door behind him as quietly as possible, clearly anticipating his partner to be sleeping despite the knowledge that David waits up for him every year. “Hello, love,” Don murmurs softly, nudging off snow-coated shoes and slipping out of his coat. “Why’re you still up?”

“I always am,” David says, stretching arms above his head and disturbing a clearly-disgruntled Martha. “Sorry, sweet,” he tells the cat with a fond pet, as Don settles on the sofa beside him. His cheeks are rosy from the cold, the tip of his nose a little pink, and David can’t resist the urge to tilt up his head and kiss it. “How was Mass?”

“It was good. A few babies demonstrating their displeasure but nothing awful,” Don murmurs, one arm stretching out to settle around David’s shoulders. In response, David shuffles into the embrace, twisting to press a kiss to the juncture of Don’s neck and shoulder as the broader man asks; “You alright?”

David hums in affirmation, eyes fluttering shut once more. “Had my wine and chocolate cake, and Martha fell asleep on me before we’d even met Tiny Tim.” Don chuckles, sending vibrations through his chest and David’s body. “Think I fell asleep before meeting the Ghost of Christmas Past.”

“Probably for the best,” Don muses, pressing a kiss to the ruffled blond hair. “I know that one always scares you when I’m not here.”

“Bugger off,” David grumbles fondly. “Are you sleepy?”

Don shakes his head, before remembering David’s eyes are closed. “Not really. Did you want to put the rest of the film on?” It’s pointless asking, really; David always says yes, and always falls asleep on his lap less than twenty minutes in. It's their own festive tradition, and Don wouldn’t change a thing.

Predictably, David shuffles closer still, grinning sleepily. “Go on then. Perhaps I’ll make it to the end this year.”

“Yeah right,” Don chuckles, squeezing gently. “We both know it’ll end with you falling asleep on the sofa and me carrying you to bed. Happens every year.” He reaches for the remote nonetheless, skipping the film until David nudges his arm to indicate this is the last bit he recalls. The menorah – lit before Don had left for Mass at 11, and still going strong – flickers, casting a warm glow in the window to complement the twinkling lights on the small Christmas tree. The timing of Hanukkah this year means their respective religious holidays line up, a synchronicity that pleases Don (perhaps disproportionately so). He makes a mental note to blow out the flame before they sleep, in fear of Martha knocking it over with her rather prominent belly.  

By the time Scrooge is asking for the date, David’s breathing has levelled out, deep enough for Don to assume he’s fast asleep. The cat has long since jumped from the settee to find some morsel to snack upon, leaving the two of them alone in front of the screen. A smile tugs at Don’s lips; if this is Christmas every year for the rest of his days, Don will have no complaints.

Tomorrow morning, he’ll wake David with smoked salmon on a muffin, and put up with his protestations about Don’s cold feet in the bed. They’ll spend the morning tangled in the sheets, exploring the familiar planes of each other’s body and making the most of the time away from work. And at the festive lunch, before they head over to the Scripps’ family supper like every year, Don will nudge a haphazardly-wrapped ring box into David’s lap, cheeks pink from more than the cold, and murmur the question they thought would never be theirs to ask. Perhaps they won’t make it to the family meal. Neither will mind.

But for now, he’s content to stay wrapped up on the sofa, legs going dead with the weight of a sleeping David on his lap. In fact, there’s nothing he’d love more.

**Author's Note:**

> so this is set in december 2005, where google informs me that hanukkah begun on 24th december, and the first civil partnerships in the uk had just occurred. i am not jewish or christian, so if any of my references are incorrect, please please let me know.
> 
> happy holidays, everyone! kudos and comments hang my baubles <3
> 
> find me on the tumble hellscape at [sushi-for-cats](sushi-for-cats.tumblr.com)
> 
> special shoutout to daisy & the thbnetwork chat for being fab


End file.
